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Elegy Chapter Two: Nistalan
(Scene 1) :The Scratching Post Bar and Grill :Levity, Planet Odell :Antares System, Antares Quadrant, Epsilon Sector :2680.107, 2013 Hours EST (Six Months Earlier) (Scene 2) :Daik Qith'rak nar Sutaghi :Brajakh Birinin, Planet N'Ryllis :N'Ryllis System, Kur'u Caxki Quadrant, Kilrah Sector :2669.267, 1307 Hours EST (Eleven Years Earlier) He deliberately swung high, towards a point slightly above Ra'khaj's head. The youth parried the blow with ease and began drawing up for a riposte when Bloodeye stepped inside and then kicked the youth squarely in the groin, his foot landing true. Gar'chaqma'ga du'ajs dulan gara'ins yu'Ra'Khaj. Kir'hra'draqchak vargs maks nisk aj takr'gathle ja'lesh gar'amink ma'hara, Kayi, maks chakrapaqgar rothraks du{testicles}, gar'pak'nistalan hes. There were roars of disapproval from the class and a distinct yelp of pain as Bloodeye's target crumpled to the ground, dropping the faux blade in the process. Bloodeye didn't hesitate. With the swift motions of an expert, he placed his foot on Ra'khaj's blade hand and raised his own training blade to the youth's throat while the latter's eyes glazed over with a combination of pain and anger. He made a quick slicing motion, signalling the kill and the end of the match. Hu'ha'k lekarhgai'k'ahagai ta'ahn maks elek'kalk aiyvarg takh gar'sha'in dakekrgavk dutha, {dropping the faux blade in the process. Bloodeye didn't hesitate. With the swift motions of an expert, he placed his foot on Ra'khaj's blade hand and raised his own training blade to the youth's throat while the latter's eyes glazed over with a combination of pain and anger. He made a quick slicing motion, signalling the kill and the end of the match.} "Students, heed this lesson well! Yes, this victory was without honor, won through a cowardly act. In this fact you are absolutely correct, and I do not feel the thrill of victory, only the shame of cowardice. Yet, consider - I have triumphed over my foe. Had this been a fight with true blades, Ra'Khaj would now be dead. He did not anticipate that I, his instructor, would stoop to a dishonorable act in order to best him. Therein lies the lesson I will teach you today - many of you will leave this school and go on to fight against the Terrans as soldiers in the Imperial Legions. On the battlefield, in any encounter where you meet a Terran in hand-to-hand combat, you have almost all of the advantages - you are stronger, faster and your senses better than the Terrans. Therefore, the Terran will be desperate, and Terrans are not bound by honor. It is in that situation, when you are closing in for the kill and your honor-less foe is desperate to stay alive, that he is most dangerous. He does not seek death - Terrans have no problem with the notion of life without honor - and he will do whatever he needs to do to replace your victory with death. The tales of them besting our best warriors through acts of dishonor and cowardice are too many to count; I myself know of too many of my former students - your compatriots - who were killed shamefully by Terrans and I do not want to here of such a thing happening to any of you as well. Remember the words of the Codex, students: There is no such thing as a battle without honor, though it is possible to encounter an honorless foe. Such words were almost designed with the Terrans in mind. This is all I will teach you today. Go now, and think carefully upon my words, while I arrange to perform the puckal for my actions today." He could see the students were dissatisfied at what had taken place before them, but they all looked contemplative and didn't hesitate to file out of the training room. Many of them knew that Bloodeye was a mere commoner, that Ra'Khaj was a member of a high-ranking family in the Kiranka clan, and Bloodeye knew that, despite saying he'd perform the annual ritual of atonement for his actions, it was more likely that Ra'Khaj would order their teacher to perform zu'kara - ritual suicide - instead, and none of them wanted to witness that happening. Bloodeye's foot was still firmly placed against Ra'Khaj's blade hand and he could see that the youth's expression of pain had sufficiently translated itself into one of pure anger. He addressed his defeated opponent in an even tone. "Before I will release your hand, you must promise not to strike me." Ra'Khaj's scowl deepened but he nodded his assent. Bloodeye slowly picked up his foot and Ra'Khaj withdrew his hand, shaking it to get feeling back into it while getting onto his feet. Bloodeye saw the youth's hands restrain from an attempt at cradling his wounded nether regions; Ra'Khaj was quite disciplined for his age. Now Bloodeye shifted back into the role of teacher. "Should have and would have, Ra'Khaj - should have and wasn't, because you were enjoying yourself so much that you lost track of what truly mattered: the kill. The saying goes that victory should not be counted until the blood of the prey is in one's mouth. Remember that. And you would do well to remember today's lesson. You may never find yourself on the battlefields against the Terrans, but I have heard some stories that suggest to me that life in the Imperial Court is no less hazardous, no less full of those who are willing to put their honor aside to merely fulfill their ambitions." Bloodeye could see that his words had their intended effect; the cub was thinking upon what had been said, his anger defusing rapidly. He had no idea how much time Ra'Khaj had spent around the court during his short lifetime, but judging by the cub's reaction he had been there long enough to know that Bloodye was right. Before Ra'Khaj's anger returned, Bloodeye decided to exercise his authority as one of the school's senior teachers. "Go and find the healers; I will inform your other instructors to not expect you today so that you may attend to your injuries. Ice will help the one. The other - the injury to your pride - may take more time to heal." The cub stopped and thought for a moment, then turned and headed towards the door as quickly as his injury would allow him. Bloodeye saw him reach the door and then turn around as though he were about to ask another question, but at that moment one of the senior students bounded through the open threshold. "Kal Gathik'a, we are receving a transmission from Kilrah. Lord Talmak wishes to speak to you at once," he breathlessly announced. Thus dismissed, Ra'Khaj turned and left, while Bloodeye himself exited from the training room, absent-mindedly still carrying the igirgai with him. Lord Talmak had been summoned by the Emperor himself a few days ago to witness yet another launch of the Emperor's "final message to the Terrans". Reports indicated that this time around, the fleet gathered at Kilrah might even actually succeed in destroying the Terrans this time. Before he had left, though, Lord Talmak had confided in Bloodeye that while he was on Kilrah he intended to ask permission from the Emperor to have Bloodeye confirmed as a Master of Blades and to have him legally declared as Lord Talmak's heir, Lord Talmak having no children of his own. No commoner had ever been made a Master of anything before; it would be an unprecedented honor if the Emperor agreed, and it showed the level of faith that Lord Talmak had in Bloodeye and his skills. To be named heir - and to someday inherit lordship over the entire nar Sutaghi clan - was something he didn't think he was entirely prepared for, but it was enough that his master thought he could handle it. Bloodeye could only hope that he'd do his master proud as a leader when the time came. Bloodeye assumed as he made his way to his office that his Master was personally communicating the results of his request, a very good sign indeed. He might get into some trouble over the duel with Ra'Khaj but he was reasonably sure as he reached the threshhold that whatever else happened, the cub would not order his death today. As he would think back on this moment for years to come, he would remember how he felt - and how he was utterly unprepared for the series of events that unfolded next. He saw on his desk computer a blinking light indicating a call on hold. He pressed a button and a crackly image of his master Lord Talmak flared to life. His master's expression was not one of pleasure - indeed, Bloodeye could tell that the leader of clan Sutaghi was visibly shaken. Bloodeye's blood froze when he heard the word. Eshchurgu - literally meaning "before death" - was the strongest form of blood-oath a Kilrathi could take, a sign that whatever task had been demanded, it would be done before the oath-swearer's death, on pain of that kil's everlasting dishonor should they fail. The strength of the oath had religious connotations; those who failed would be forever forgotten in the annals of Kilrathi history, their souls finding themselves in the deepest canyons of nargrast forever. But at that moment, before his master could finish speaking, the static picked up fiercely and drowned out his Master's image. The computer finally clicked off, flashing the words "signal lost". Bloodeye deactivated the terminal and sat in bewilderment, wondering what it was his master wanted him to do, and how it involved Ra'Khaj. He would be wondering that for the next eleven years. (Scene 3) :The Scratching Post Bar and Grill :Levity, Planet Odell :Antares System, Antares Quadrant, Epsilon Sector :2680.107, 2020 Hours EST *''(38 text blocks)'' Bloodeye drank another shot of watered-down kika'li, his voice still that of one remembering things they wish they could forget. "I thought nothing of the communications failure at the time. Earthquakes were commonplace on Kilrah if you'll remember, and I believed that my master would simply communicate with me again when it became possible for him to do so. It was only later - when I heard the news of Kilrah's death - that I realized why the signal had been disrupted. It's somewhat difficult to send a signal when the planet the transmitter is located on is in the middle of being destroyed." Ra'Khaj's tone was one of deep respect. "Lord Talmak was an honorable kil and a good teacher. He deserved to die in battle, not to be crushed to death like a common insect - like how so many of our people died that day." The two Kilrathi remained silent and deep in thought for a short time, the other conversations in the bar passing without thought towards the matter the two aliens were discussing with one another. The death of Kilrah was an emotional topic for all Kilrathi, its mentioning always invoking memories of where one had been and what they had been doing when they'd heard the news, along with the anguish at the those who had been lost that day, the Empire that had fallen with the planet's destruction, and the needless chaos and suffering that had gripped the Kilrathi people in the years since. After a few moments, Bloodeye continued his narrative, his tone still one of remembrance. "Of course, you were at the blade school when the news arrived; I'm sure you remember well the scene. I myself wandered the halls in a daze as I recall, seeing kili - fellow instructors as well as students - who had cut the ka'chodyapakalk on their foreheads twice, sometimes three or four times. Some had cut themselves more deeply than is wise, but of course we were all in a savage state of mourning. How does one mourn an entire world? How many ka'chodyapakalki are necessary to mourn four and six-eights greater eight-of-eight-eights people? There were those who committed zu'kara of course, and as the realization that my master had died without me at his side hit me, I knew that my honor demanded I take my own life as well, and went to conduct the ritual. I thought it ironic that I would dodge the specter of zu'kara once only to be going to commit it willingly that same day..." (The number there is ''kesh'ksok'oktogaga, about 7 billion after translating from octal to decimal. It's not an exact translation but it works.)'' He was reaching the end of his narrative and it was imperative that Ra'Khaj understood all of the ramifications of his tale. Bloodeye leaned in towards Ra'Khaj, squinted his eyes and lowered the volume of his voice, speaking with as much intensity as he could manage. "It was as I held my claws ready to rip out my own throat that I remembered my vow of eshchurgu. I had a task to complete that I had sworn to see done before my death and much as I longed for it, I had to complete that task. Of course, I had no idea what that task was, because my master had died before he could tell me about it - and to this day, I do not know what my task was to have been - I only know that it somehow involves you, Ra'Khaj. That, my old student, is why I still live today - because of you. I have faith in Sivar that he will one day enlighten me and show me my path. In the meantime, I survive and I pray the Prayer of the Sa'guk daily." Ra'Khaj scowled. "You tell me all of this hoping to gain my sympathy?" "Of course." The younger Kilrathi gestured in disbelief. "How can you fulfill a task if you don't know what it is and the only one who did is dead? Your reasoning reeks of pathetic excuse to me. If you have truly sworn eshchurgu, your new Kal Thrak'hra should've recognized your vow and allowed you to continue to serve him and live with honor until your task was accomplished. Why then are you sa'guk?" Bloodeye had anticipated the need to explain this to Ra'Khaj as well. "That one's easy. Who became the new leader of clan Sutaghi after the death of Lord Talmak?" Ra'Khaj responded with mild contempt, as though Bloodeye were insulting his intelligence by asking such a stupid question with such a well-known answer. "Lord Thavidaqut lak Arg, of course..." "And what do you remember of my relationship with Lord Thavidaqut?," Bloodeye quickly interrupted. That stopped Ra'Khaj, the dawning realization changing his expression from one of contempt to mild surprise. "Do you mean to say that you're considered sa'guk because Lord Thavidaqut still holds a grudge against you for that incident with his sister?" Bloodeye suppressed the urge to smile in triumph. "Not against me, Ra'Khaj, as much as against my dearly-departed friend Gar. But as I'm the last of Lord Talmak's retainers still alive and was Gar's closest friend, he has no one else against whom to direct his anger. Not to mention the fact that it I was I who bested him, if you'll recall." He thought back with a mixture of admiration and annoyance at his old friend. Shintahr Gar hrai Talmak laq Qith'rak, the mighty and famed commander of the Harg'ahngarasiv Okkszar, had been a young kil once upon a time, and like most youth, he too had made some truly bone-headed mistakes in his life. On the day before he went to join the Imperial Legions, he had shared the bed of Daqi lak Arg, the youngest daughter of Kal Drakamo lak Arg. The two had been in love with one another since their respective childhoods, despite Gar being a mere commoner and Daqi betrothed to a member of another noble family. After he'd left for war, it was discovered that she and Gar had secretly become lair-mates that last night and that she was pregnant from their mating. As Gar's liege-lord, Lord Talmak was held responsible for Gar's behavior and he was subsequently forced to pay a handsome bride's price for Lord Drakamo's daughter. As far as the elder Kilrathi were concerned, the matter had been settled, but Lord Drakamo's son Thavidaqut challenged Lord Talmak for the loss of the honor of the family of his sister's betrothed. Bloodeye had stepped in his master's place for the duel and had bested Thavidaqut easily; he had obeyed when his master had ordered him not to slay the defeated upstart, an order that, despite what it had cost him personally years later, he couldn't bring himself to wish he'd disobeyed. Ra'Khaj continued with growing disdain at what had been said. "And he knows of your eshchurgu? "Of course." Ra'Khaj spoke with disgust in his voice, his expression one of thoughtfulness. "The dishonor of such a thing...such cowardice should not be tolerated in a Great Lord, and yet such things are commonplace these days..." When Ra'Khaj continued speaking, the disgust in his voice was gone. "What would you do with a warship, Bloodeye? You never served in the Imperial Navy - to my knowledge you have no starfaring experience at all." Yes, Bloodeye thought. Ra'Khaj was satisfied at his tale - that his honor, despite what his society said, was still intact - and would help him now. He just needed a reason, and the truth would just happen to play to Ra'Khaj's own personal beliefs. Bloodeye poured out his reasoning with passion. "B: Ra'Khaj, I don't know where you've been this last decade, if you've endured the hardships that most of our people have; judging solely on your appearance, I'll assume you have not. I've lived on a Terran-run reservation for nearly a decade. I've seen proud Kilrathi succumb to things like starvation and disease, dying in a Terran bed like so many feeble grandmothers. I've seen our brethren hunted down like traggil and slaughtered like rugalga for the most minor of infractions. I've seen the faces of our people, Ra'Khaj - our once-proud people - and the Warrior Spirit is fading. I see it more and more with each passing day. He allowed a hint of anger into his voice as he continued. "I've also noticed the faces of the Terrans charged with "providing" for our brethren. They teach our youth that the actions of their ancestors were evil, and that their millenia-old culture and beliefs should be abandoned entirely for one that's more "enlightened". They teach of the atrocities our kind caused during the War; they don't speak of the ones they committed in kind. In them there is greed, intolerance, hatred, smugness, insolence. Now his anger was manifest. "I hear of our so-called leaders and their concern for the plight of our people, and I see what they do. They do nothing. They can do nothing. You ask what I want with a warship, Ra'Khaj - I want to go to war. I want to take back from the Terrans what rightfully belongs to our people: our dignity, and our honor. For the sake of our people, I want to fight for our future." As he spoke, Bloodeye could see that his words were stirring up deep emotions in Ra'Khaj; the younger Kilrathi obviously felt the same as he did. He thought he could detect Ra'Khaj suppressing the urge to smile, to take up the charge and roar in agreement with his words. When Ra'Khaj spoke next though, it was with a hint of regret. "Your heart is Kilrathi, Bloodeye. Were it in my power to grant you your request, I would do so. But, there remains the fact that you are sa'guk to your clan. However unjust that status may be, it remains the truth. I cannot officially support you in any crusade you may want to take without risking my own position within the government." "You would leave me empty-handed, then?" Bloodeye was crestfallen. All the effort, all the risks he'd taken to get Ra'Khaj to meet with him, only for the latter to deny him... Ra'Khaj shook his head. "I want to help you, Bloodeye - I truly do. I just cannot do so directly." Bloodeye was about to dismiss the other Kilrathi in disgust; Ra'Khaj gestured him for him to wait, speaking quickly. "If it will help you in your cause, you may have the shuttle with which I came here. I would suggest you use it to seek out Arrah Sutaghi at the T'Kon H'hra Military Salvage Yard. He's a logistics officer there and a commoner like yourself, and as someone with a stigma of his own, he might be more willing than most to help you. I will send him a message to expect your arrival. He may be able to get you your ship, though I wouldn't count on it being first rate. If he can help you though, you should have little difficultly finding a crew at T'Kon H'hra - most of the residents there are ex-military and would take any excuse for getting off the station. You've known life in the reservations, Bloodeye, but I've been to the T'Kon H'hra station and seen how things are there first-hand. Compared to it, the reservations are a paradise." Bloodeye highly doubted that last sentence. "Surely you exaggerate." Ra'Khaj was dead serious. "I sincerely wish I did." Well, it's not exactly what I wanted, but it's a start, Bloodeye thought. "As I wish you could've helped me more directly, but I'll thank you for the lead nevertheless. Don't you need the shuttle to return to Pasqual, though?" Ra'Khaj shrugged dismissively. "I borrowed it from the Council's motorpool anyway; I can simply say it was stolen. Such things happen more frequently than they should these days as it is. I will make my own arrangements to return to Pasqual." Bloodeye nodded approval. "As you wish." Ra'Khaj stood. "Then our business here is concluded. I must leave before the reek of this place saturates my fur and clothing entirely, and forces me to burn both." He turned to go, but then stopped and turned back to face his old teacher. "Do you believe I could've bested you that day?" Bloodeye smirked. "I do. Honestly, there was not much else I could've taught you. Had things not unfolded as they did, I probably would've recommended you for the kochirth'gata tests. At least as soon as I could've tamed that temper of yours." Ra'Khaj smiled with pride. "You were correct, old teacher - the second wound did take longer to heal; I leave you today with my pride healed fully for the first time in eleven years. Bloodeye, I understand you have been deeply wronged. If it becomes within my power to have your honor restored or to assist you in determining your master's designs for me, I will do so. I bid you farewell, and I wish you great success in your coming war." Bloodeye responded in kind with the traditional Kilrathi statement of farewell. "May your talons be wet, and if your fate is not to return, may praise be sung in your name." At that, Ra'Khaj turned and left the bar, snarling at a couple of Terrans who stole glances at him as he left. Bloodeye himself decided not to tempt fate; he waited for a few more seconds, then stood, moved the chair back under the table and placed the 200-credit token for the waitress as he said he would. Exiting the bar, he began making his way towards the city spaceport. Ra'Khaj's shuttle wouldn't be too difficult to find; it'd probably the only Naktarg there with KAC government markings. He considered it fortunate that he had managed to conclude the meeting without interruption, interference or detection by the local authorities. As it turned out, he was wrong on this last count - his presence at the bar had most certainly not gone unnoticed... (Scene 4) :Office of the Governor of Epsilon Sector :Hope, Planet Epsilon Prime :Epsilon Prime System, Deneb Quadrant, Epsilon Sector :2680.110, 0954 Hours EST Governor Stella Lee had a splitting headache, the kind of borderline migraine you get when you drank a few more glasses of wine than what's generally considered wise during the previous night, the same kind that, if you could manage to stand on your own two feet for longer than thirty seconds without having to upchuck, makes you want to go out and stab somebody. Particularly those who are making too much noise. Particularly annoying little aides prattling on through the morning activity reports... It was often said that any job in civil government was a step towards bigger and better things, like a seat on the Grand Assembly, or perhaps even the Presidency. Lee had often thought of this and could only laugh inwardly when she thought about her own office; it was almost a joke for there to even be a Confederation Governor of Epsilon Sector anymore. Most of the Confederation-held worlds in Epsilon Sector had declared independence and formed the heart of the nascent Union of Border Worlds seven years ago, leaving just four systems under Confederation control in the Sector. Two of those were effectively non-members, both having been rendered uninhabited during the War by the Kilrathi with efforts to make them habitable once again proceeding at a snail's pace, while the other two each contained a refinery base and didn't really need regional government. True, there were Confederation military bases around the Sector, but those were under military jurisdiction; they didn't need civilian oversight either. So here she was, working a do-nothing job in a do-nothing office along the frontier, well away from what any sane person would call civilization, with nothing on the horizon that could be considered "bigger" or "better". It had been a lousy year for Lee, professionally and most definitely personally. "...and once again they've sent us a request asking for us to do more about pirate activity in and around Orsini and Morpheus systems." Lee decided to pay attention to her aide long enough to give him a proper response to the latest piece of abject bullshit to cross her desk. "Send them a message - let Hurston know that this office is already doing everything we can do about the damn Morgans and Jezebels in Orsini and Morpheus, and if that's not good enough they can either talk to the military or use that shiny private police force of theirs to do the job. You know, the one that's been rated best in the corporate world for the last five years, the one that's got them under review right now. And if they don't like it, they can go fuck themselves all the way to what's left of Kilrah...quote me on that - use those exact words. Next. Tell me we're getting close to the end here..." Lee's aide shifted uncomfortably at her use of profanity and she smiled inwardly. Her aide was new and relatively inexperienced, a kid on his own journey up the ranks, and obviously not used to the realities of politics. Smiles and civility in politics were concepts enforced only by the rules of governmental chambers; in their own offices, a politician's language could easily rival that of a sailor's. The aide pushed a few buttons on the PDA he held in his hands, a crutch with which to support his uneasiness. "You've had another request from Daphne. She's once again requesting to attend the k'g'harg on Charon." Lee rolled her eyes in disgust. "First of all, learn to sort my personal business from my professional business, Abner. I'm not going to tell you again, understand? Four months is long enough to learn how to use planning software and it's a critical skill if you're going to stay in this business. Second, me telling my charming daughter that she can go participate in some god-damned Cat orgy over my cold and rotting body can wait until after my meeting with Governor Hodge; I get to be bitched out because 'the Broken Claw Agency isn't doing its job' and 'why aren't we moving faster to close down the remaining Kilrathi reservations' again, which, suck as it does, it still more important to my so-called constituency than me telling her she can gift-wrap the whole idea and shove it up her ass again. Speaking of my meeting with Hodge, that particular set of fun and games begins in about five minutes, so we probably oughta wrap this up. Anything else? You know, anything other than things that aren't any of your god-damned business?" He tapped the screen of the PDA quickly. "Just one last thing, Governor. Something from General Alistair's intel bunch." The Governor groaned. "Intel? What the hell are they bothering us about this time, more pirate crap?" The aide shook his head nervously, obviously unable to tell if the item he was looking at was personal or not. "No, ma'am. General Alistair seemed to think that you personally would be interested in this. Apparently a high-ranking Kilrathi nobleman, Ra'Khaj nar Ghoran, was seen on Odell two days ago." "By Alistair's bunch? Bar or brothel?" It was a fair question; General Bradley Alistair, who had been a pilot during the closing days of the War and had a well-deserved reputation for being a womanizer, had often held to the notion that such establishments were great places to gather intelligence and had set up such places throughout the Sector specifically for that purpose. The fact that the General himself often patronized his own establishments - particularly his brothels - didn't diminish the faith the Confederation put in the intelligence his teams gathered, though there were plenty of people in the Confederation civil government that thought of his methods with more than a modicum of disgust. Lee was one of those people - almost everything about the General disgusted her to the core. He wasn't even that good of a lay... "A bar, governor. Here, let me show you." The aide walked around to her side of the desk, tapping the screen of his PDA to bring up an image that had been attached to the report. He handed the PDA to the Governor; she had seen enough images of Ra'Khaj nar Ghoran, a known player in Kilrathi politics, to know that the first Cat she was seeing was definitely him. Her eyes shifted over to the other Kilrathi, while her aide droned on. "Apparently he was there for some kind of meeting with this other Kilrathi whom we haven't yet identified and..." The sight of the other Cat brought Lee to a sudden and painful sobriety; she didn't need an intelligence analysis to tell her who he was. "That's Krahtagh N'Ryllis," she intoned flatly. "Are you sure?" Am I sure, you idiot?, she thought. Am I sure I know the face of the Cat that killed my husband? Lee nodded, her expression intense. "Positive. That's him. That's the fleabag bastard that killed William." There was an uncomfortable silence in the room; her aide said nothing. She had long ago told him the tale - how her husband had worked as a field agent for the Broken Claw and had one day She inhaled sharply as she passed the PDA back to her aide, her tone dangerous. "Tell me that Intel picked up the conversation they were having." AIDE: Only fragments of it; faulty microphone pickup. General Alistair's staff said he was some kinda pissed when he found out it. They didn't get much of it, so they're having to resort to lip-reading, which will take a while. They did get the words "T'Kon H'hra" clearly enough, though. LEE: I see. Send a message to the T'Kon H'hra base and advise them to be on the lookout for a Kilrathi matching N'Ryllis's description arriving sometime in the next few days. He is to be considered armed and dangerous, and must be apprehended at all costs. AIDE: Why not just order them to kill him outright? He's just a Cat, after all. LEE: No. I want to watch that bastard burn... (Scene 5) :Docking Port 4-5 :T'kon H'hra Military Salvage Yard :T'kon H'hra System, Sa'Khan Quadrant, Epsilon Sector :2680.113, 1222 Hours EST AGENT: Identi-card, please. (Bloodeye hands the Terran agent a fake card. He scans it and looks at it his screen for a short time). AGENT: Wait here for a moment, please. (Bloodeye waits while the agent goes into an adjacent room. He's surprised to see a Kilrathi officer - Gux'a P'nt - approach a few minutes later) GP: Greetings. You must come with me now, sir. B: Is there a problem, First Fang? GP: No problems, but I need to ask you a few questions before I let you onto the station. We don't get a lot of Kilrathi visiting the station voluntarily. Most of our brethren are trying to leave. B: I'm here merely to conduct some business and then I'll be on my way. GP: I understand. It's the nature of that business that I need to ask about. So, I must ask you to come with me again - preferably before the Terran with the nasty-looking gun at his side gets trigger-happy. (Bloodeye notices the Terran agent having released the clasp of his weapon, ready to draw) B: I see. (Gux'a P'nt leads Bloodeye to an adjacent room, obviously set up for interrogation. As he enters, he surreptitiously places his hand on the hilt of his koractu. As the door shuts behind the two of them, Bloodeye draws the blade has it at Gux'a P'nt's throat before the other realizes it). B: I have no wish to harm a fellow Kilrathi. GP: (calmly) I have no particular wish to be harmed. B: Then we understand one another. So here's what's going to happen - you will let me walk of this room, you will report to your Terran friends outside that there are no discrepancies with my identification, and you will let me conduct my business here. The alternative is a demonstration of the proper use of this blade. GP: Those demands seem reasonable. But, before you do anything that I'll regret now and probably you'll regret shortly thereafter, let me ask you three questions. First: do you see the camera and microphone units imbedded in the walls of this room? Second: did you know they are currently switched off, and that I flipped the switches myself? Third: by what name did you call Gar hrai Talmak laq Qith'rak as a youth, and what unit did he command during the War? (Bloodeye slowly lowers his blade) B: He commanded the Harg'ahngarasiv Okkszar, and I called him "troublemaker". GP: As Shintahr Gar told it, you gave him that name because he bested you in a duel that lasted two days. You are Krahtagh N'Ryllis, the fugitive also known as "Bloodeye". B: You served under Gar? GP: In a manner of speaking; I helped him orchestrate the prison escape on Rakis. I'm Arrah Sutaghi. In recent days, I've received not one but two messages informing me to expect your arrival. B: Oh? (sheathes the blade at this point) GP: Yes. The first from Lord Ra'Khaj, telling me that you were on your way here to discuss a business arrangement and that I was to give you my full confidence. He mentioned you were sa'guk but that if you take the time to explain the circumstances to me at your earliest convenience, and that in the meantime I was to extend you every courtesy. The second was from the base's administration. Apparently your meeting with Lord Ra'Khaj on Odell did not go entirely unnoticed. B: That would complicate matters then, wouldn't it? GP: That it would. So whatever business you have to discuss, you should probably talk about it quickly. Before my superiors notice the recorders off, preferably. B: I need a ship, preferably a warship. GP: You've definitely come to the right place then - we have warships in surplus, if you're not picky about their condition. I could probably guess why you need one, but I'll defer hearing your reasoning for now. At the moment, we need to get you out of here and into hiding among the station's populace. B: Alright. How do you propose to do that? GP: I think your earlier suggestion - that I report to the Terrans that your identi-card is in order and that you are not, in fact, the kil the Broken Claw was looking for would do the trick. We'll need to set up a time and place to meet and discuss matters. B: Is there somewhere we could meet privately, and un-noticed? GP: Privacy is a thing of myth on this base; there's just too many of us. My cabin, such as it is, will provide us as much privacy as you can expect. Level 12 Section C; my shift ends at 1700 and we can discuss matters then. Meantime, I'd keep such a fine blade well under wraps; the populace does not take kindly to newcomers and a prize like that one would be well sought after. B: I see. I shall meet you at 1700 then. (They walk out) GP: (to Terran guard). I'm authorizing this kil to enter the base on my own authority; I am satisfied that he is not N'Ryllis. AGENT: You're sure about that, Gux'a P'nt? GP: (annoyed) Yes. AGENT: Your funeral. You got a name, Cat? B: I am Kayi nar Thaknav. AGENT: (opening the door to the cargo bay) Uh-huh. Well, Kayi nar Thaknav, welcome to hell... (Bloodeye stares in utter shock at what he sees in the station's cargo bay - the place is crammed to the walls with Kilrathi, the odor is nearly overwhelming, the sights sickening)... (Scene 6) :Arrah Sutaghi's Quarters :T'kon H'hra Military Salvage Yard, Level 12 Section C :T'kon H'hra System, Sa'Khan Quadrant, Epsilon Sector :2680.113, 1222 Hours EST (mention Bloodeye's activities of the day - how he'd explored for a couple of hours and asked a few questions. Despite not trying to, he had had to defend himself from someone trying to steal his sword; that Kil had lost a finger for his trouble and no one in range had bothered him afterwards. He shortly thereafter made his way to Gux'a P'nt's quarters, getting turned around only a few times. He's just gotten done telling Gux'a P'nt his tale.) B: ...and so now you know the truth of my story, and you know why I have come here. Whether you choose to believe my story or not is your concern. If not, I'll leave in peace. If you do, however, I would ask you for your help. GP: It is not unheard of for those in power, who are supposed to behave as paragons of honor, to behave dishonorably. You may have heard what my "friend" Karl called me as we were heading into the cargo bay earlier... B: Yes. He called you The Murderer of Five... GP: That he did, and that tale - like yours - boils down to a falsehood concocted and perpetrated by those in power. Prior to my time here I was a field soldier for the KAC Police force, and occasionally I flew shuttles for our diplomats; that's how I came to be known by Lord Ra'Khaj. One day I was tasked with delivering two principle lieutenants of members of the Council of the Assembly to a summit with the lak Agga warlords of S'Thran H'hra. On final approach, the lak Agga shot the shuttle down; the diplomats and their attaches died in the crash and I was seriously wounded. I know we were shot down and the lak Agga were responsible - but the lak Agga said that their "investigation" into the crash led them to believe that "pilot error" was to blame, and the Council believed them - that the lak Agga would never sully their honor by telling such an egregious lie. From that day forward, I was the Murderer of Five, ostracized by our leaders. I was sent to this hellhole because the Kal Thrak'hra of nar Cakxi called for my head, and Lord Thavidaqut did not want to allow another clan leader to dictate the execution of one of their own. I know I'm innocent, and that if I could present the proof to our leaders that they would agree and restore my honor. Meantime, I am here - watching our enemies castrate the once-proud fleets of Kilrah, our brethren herded like animals and left to starve or die from common diseases. I've been stuck here for six years now. B: Your tale is remarkably close to mine, it seems. GP: That it is. And whether I believe your tale or not - I do, by the way - what you're offering is a way of leaving this place behind for good - this is what you should lead with when you try to find a crew. B: Yes, I've given the matter of finding a crew some thought; I am not terribly thrilled with my prospects there. I've enountered many in the Empire who have at least heard my name and know that I'm sa'guk. There are those out there who would run me through sooner than they would give me the time of day. GP: You may be in luck once again. I've made connections with several kili who live on this base that have varying skills. They could conceivably make a fine crew, given the right leader. They know me and I know them. B: If you could gather them together and let me introduce myself all at once, that would be a helpful thing. GP: I will do this for you. I'll arrange a meeting and spread the word. This may take a while, as some of them are harder to locate than others. Let's say two days from now we'll convene. In the meantime, I'll look up the station's records and see which ships are in the best shape. B: I appreciate all the help you're giving me, Arrah Sutaghi. GP: Don't thank me just yet - thank me when you have space beneath your feet and this place is far behind you... (Alright, we will kill it here - the last bit of exposition starts with the next chapter). EXPOSITION Krahtagh hrai Talmak nar Sutaghi is a vassal to Lord Talmak Jirha laq Qith'rak nar Sutaghi, who is himself a noted weapons master. Krahtagh is a weapons instructor to Ra'Khaj nar Ghoran, a child with an enigmatic past; the two share a strong mentor/protege relationship, much like Lord Talmak and Bloodeye themselves. During a sparring exercise, Krahtagh chastises Ra'Khaj for his views on (honor vs survival; I'm developing this initial bit of the story still). With no heirs of his own, Lord Talmak considers Krahtagh - or Kayi (Bloodeye), as he's known - his proper successor and goes to petition Emperor Joor'rad personally for special dispensation to grant Bloodeye the status of master, an honor never before bestowed upon a commoner, and to have him recognized as Talmak's rightful heir. Bloodeye is left behind on N'Ryllis when Talmak is granted an initial audience with the Emperor. Bloodeye receives a communique from a visibly shaken Talmak while the latter is still on Kilrah, who says he has a hard task to ask of Bloodeye and makes him swear on his honor that he will see it carried out "at all costs". Bloodeye unflinchingly swears to do his master's bidding. Talmak is able to tell Bloodeye that "It's about Ra'Khaj", before the line goes dead - the Temblor Raid has occurred. Upon learning of his master's death, Bloodeye prepares for zu'kara - when he suddenly remembers his vow. The implications of the vow slowly descend upon him... Bloodeye has no hrai of his own; he becomes sa'guk in the eyes of his community for his failure to perform zu'kara like a proper Kilrathi should, no one else having heard the vow he swore to his master and his loyalty to his former master not given any consideration by the newly selected Kal Thrak'hra of clan Sutaghi (who holds a grudge against Bloodeye for some past transgression in which Bloodeye's testimony caused him to lose face). Bloodeye is relocated along with much of the population of N'Ryllis to the established reservation world of B'Shriss in the Antares Quadrant of Epsilon Sector. His registration papers with the Broken Claw Agency identify him as Krahtagh N'Ryllis, though in the eyes of the community he is Krahtagh Sa'guk. Krahtagh is appalled by conditions on the reservation - his fellow Kilrathi (not his fellows; even in exile he is still sa'guk and a social pariah) are left in squalor, many in a state of starvation and abject poverty. It is this state of affairs that Krahtagh is experiencing when he inadvertently murders an agent of the Broken Claw; Krahtagh witnessed the agent mistreating a Kilrathi youth. Fearing retaliation by their Terran oppressors, the citizens of the community cast out Krahtagh. With nothing left, other than a few credits, the clothes on his back and a masterwork koractu, he makes his way to the planetary capital of Ja'lra Ek'hra Rakhav and arranges a covert meeting in a Terran bar on Antares with his former pupil Ra'Khaj, who has become a controversial leader in the nar Kiranka clan. Krahtagh informs his ex-student of the conditions of his vow - including the bit he knows of it involving Ra'Khaj - and what his intentions are - he cannot allow the Kilrathi people to be treated this way any further, and intends to go to war for the sake of the species. Ra'Khaj tells him that there is little he can do officially, but does arrange for Krahtagh to gain access to a shuttle, subtly suggests he look for something with a little more punch in T'kon H'hra, and giving him the name of "Ar'rah Sutaghi" as a point of contact there. ACT I Bloodeye arrives at T'Kon H'hra, finding the conditions there even worse than they were on B'Shriss - thousands of Kilrathi are packed into the Star Post's main cargo bay like sardines, with barely enough room to move around. Most are obviously emaciated and in generally poor health. Bloodeye is taken to register as a visitor to the base but is recognized as a fugitive and must disappear into the crowd, setting up a meeting Ar'rah discretely...who turns out to be the custom official. At first Bloodeye is willing to kill Ar'rah - or Gux'a P'nt, as he's also (unjustly, in his mind) known - until the latter reveals that he too would like to see someone take up the fight for the Kilrathi people, and believes that Bloodeye might just have the clout to do it. The characters come in at this point - they are answering an advert Krahtagh placed within the T'kon H'hra base's refugee populace to meet at the local Temple of Sivar. He informs those who have gathered that he is looking for volunteers to help commandeer and crew KIS Shal'Kuz Mang, a Fralthi-II-class cruiser laying derelict in space near the station. Many present decide not to join up with yet another wannabe warlord, but he does attract a few followers; the characters are among them. Krahtagh lays out his plan for seizing the ship - one group will board using the shuttle Ra'Khaj gave to Krahtagh, power it up and kill any Terrans aboard. Once the ship is under their control, they will make their way at best speed towards the jump to T'Kon. The other group will fly fighter escort for the shuttle and the ship; Krahtagh has learned where a number of surplus fighters are stored above the depot. The second group will need to break into the hangar, fuel up the fighters and (boy, this sounds like a dumb plan...). All of this will be here eventually... ---- [[Elegy_2.1:_Tarakh%27ga|NEXT: 2.1 Part One - Tarakh'ga]] PREVIOUS: 1.0 Introduction TOP ----